Mind Games

“I didn’t.” Her lungs felt hot. Hot and tight. “It’s complicated. I can—”

“It’s not complicated. It’s really so fucking simple. You’ve still got a key? How many times have you been in here, going through our things when I was out?”

The words, as harsh as a blow to the face, took her back a step.

“I never did that. I wouldn’t. I gave your father the key I had at the funeral. Ty—”

“Then you made a copy. I trusted you. I trusted you with my son.”

“Oh my God, Ty. I’d never do anything to hurt him, to hurt you. Please listen.”

“You really played me.” In visible disgust, he dragged a hand through his hair. “Jesus Christ, I should’ve known better. You need to leave. You need to get out, now. Stay away from my boy. If I find out you’ve sold pictures of him, I swear to God there’ll be a reckoning.”

“I swear I didn’t—”

“I want you out.” He yanked open the back door. “Get out of my house. Don’t come back here. Don’t send your dog down here. Keep your family away. We’re done.”

He wouldn’t listen. He wouldn’t hear. He wouldn’t believe. Everything that pumped out from him now was disgust, was rage barely held in check.

As she walked by him, the headache spiked so hard and fast it took her breath. But she kept walking. She called for her dog and kept walking.

One moment of carelessness, she thought, one moment brought on by a child’s tears, and she’d lost what she wanted most.

Halfway up the lane, she stopped because her knees buckled, and the nausea roiled a storm in her belly.

She couldn’t hold him off, couldn’t with her head pounding, her stomach churning. In her head, Riggs laughed.

Kicked your sorry ass out! He just wanted an easy fuck, and you sure gave him that. Crawl on home, bitch. I’m not the only one in a cell. He’s done with you. Nobody wants you, freak. Nobody ever will.

Bent over, her hands braced on her knees, she fought to breathe as Bunk licked her cheek and whined.

“I’ll be all right. We’ll be all right.”

No, you won’t. Not now, not ever. You fucked it up. You always will.

Because the sickness was worse than the pain, she used the pressure point at her wrist. She straightened up, kept walking.

Just kill yourself. Riggs whispered in her head now. What’ve you got to live for? Never gonna have anybody, always gonna be alone. That guy in college, he had it right. Freak. Fucking freak. Never gonna have what dead mommy and daddy had. Never gonna have that till-death bullshit.

You’ll die alone, so get it over with. Slit your wrists, and be done. Pay him back, too, right? He’ll feel like the shit he is.

Do it. Do it.

In a battle, she reminded herself, use any weapon. She used the flood of emotion streaming inside her, and drowned Riggs out.

She wasn’t alone. She had family, she had friends. She had life.

She had to feed Bunk, tend the chickens. She had to take one step, then take the next.

Her house, she thought when she reached it. Her home. Not a cell. She walked straight through it, picking up her egg basket. Fresh food and water for Bunk, then out to the coop; she took one step, then the next.

No tears—she wouldn’t shed them. A man didn’t want her, love her, trust her. He wasn’t the first, but Thea promised herself he’d be the last.

She’d never put herself through this again.

Then she turned to see her grandmother running toward her, and nearly broke the promise seconds after she made it.

“Oh, my baby!” Lucy wrapped her arms around Thea, held tight. “I felt your heart break. What happened?”